#a research of elapsing

[bebemoon]

"love like the galaxy"-inspired spring look, requested by @konvalia .

a research of elapsing sheer-backed double-layered flower-dyed silk top in color "jade"

ann demeulemeester pale silk maxi skirt, a/w 2o23

sandy liang satin mary jane pointe in black

sophie buhai "audrey" silver, pearl and chalcedony drop earrings

sheridan tjhung "black flower" bearded iris ruffle bag w/ silver shoulder chain

[quadrantadvisor]

DPxDC Danny/Jason Soulmates AU WIP

-

Jason's timer read 044389:21:08, when the display suddenly went dark. 44,389 hours. Five years, 24 days, 13 hours, 21 minutes, and 8 seconds until he was fated to meet his soulmate.

Or not. Because the time stopped.

It wasn’t supposed to happen. He did his research, and with the resources at his disposal (namely, a batcomputer,) he knew for a fact that there should be no way to defy the fate of a timer. People had tried. Avoidance, isolation, putting a hit out on your own suspected soulmate. Nothing worked. Trying to delay the inevitable put you on the path to meet it. Sure, there were people who lamented the unfairness of their own situation, who were devastated they never got time with their soulmate, famous deaths on opposite sides of a battle, etc. But soulmates always, always met eachother, face to face.

Not him, though. His soulmate was dead. Five years early.

Bruce didn’t get it. Dick wouldn’t talk about it. Alfred only looked at him with pity in his eyes.

Jason wasn’t sad that he was the only person on the planet who’d never meet his soulmate. He was fucking angry, because it wasn’t fucking fair. It was another person in his life who was supposed to care about him that he’d never get to have.

So when he found out he had a mom, somewhere out there, who he’d never had the chance to meet… he had to go. How could he not?

-

It was Sam who noticed, when it happened. Danny had just finished a stupid fight with Boxy, and he, Sam, and Tucker were finally ready to call it a night. Danny de-transformed and grinned, shaking the thermos proudly. “Gonna get these guys back into the Ghost Zone,” he said, when suddenly-

“Danny!” Sam yelped, and snatched at his arm.

Danny stumbled, nearly dropping his precious cargo. “Whoa, Sam, what-?’ he stopped, looking as she turned over his arm, baring his wrist.

His timer was dark, like people who’s soulmates were dead. The numbers still showed, faintly, but they were stationary. The countdown had stopped.

Ice spread through Danny’s veins, like the cold that rushed through him when he went ghost, but worse, so much worse.

Danny’s ghost form didn’t have a timer, which honestly freaked him out, but as a human it had always behaved completely normally. When he turned back, it would be there, the time having elapsed just the way it was supposed to. It had been so reassuring. He was alive. He’d make it at least five more years, and be able to meet his soulmate, who would hopefully be able to accept him the way he was. He wanted that so badly. He wanted someone beyond his friends to talk to, to know him as a person and a ghost. He wanted to not be afraid anymore.

He’d just passed the five year mark, not that long ago. He’d been so excited to be that much closer to someone so important.

And now something was horribly wrong.

“Dude, that’s jacked up,” Tucker said, noticing the problem with wide eyes.

“Did anything happen today?” Sam asked, her expression hardened with determination. “Did you notice anything weird while you were transformed?”

Danny shook his head. ���No, no it- it was running while we were at school, and we’ve been fighting ghosts since then. I don’t know when it would’ve…” Danny could barely make himself speak. “Is it my fault?” he said, almost to himself. “Did I spend too much time as a ghost and it just-”

Sam gripped at his hand. “No, Danny, it isn’t your fault. Whatever the problem is, we’re going to figure it out, okay?”

“Yeah man,” Tucker added, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, maybe your parents can actually help this time? Weird magic science is kinda their thing, right?”

Sam looked less sure, but nodded all the same. “You’re going to meet your soulmate. Okay?”

“Okay,” Danny said, quiet, looking down at the stopped numbers on his wrist.

-

Edit: Added a readmore

[wonders-of-the-cosmos]

Cosmic Paradigm Shift: New Research Doubles Universe’s Age to 26.7 Billion Years

A new study proposes that the universe may be 26.7 billion years old, challenging the widely accepted estimate of 13.7 billion years based on the Lambda-CDM concordance model.

Our universe could be twice as old as current estimates, according to a new study that challenges the dominant cosmological model and sheds new light on the so-called “impossible early galaxy problem.

For years, astronomers and physicists have calculated the age of our universe by measuring the time elapsed since the Big Bang and by studying the oldest stars based on the redshift of light coming from distant galaxies. In 2021, thanks to new techniques and advances in technology, the age of our universe was thus estimated at 13.797 billion years using the Lambda-CDM concordance model.

However, many scientists have been puzzled by the existence of stars like the Methuselah that appear to be older than the estimated age of our universe and by the discovery of early galaxies in an advanced state of evolution made possible by the James Webb Space Telescope. These galaxies, existing a mere 300 million years or so after the Big Bang, appear to have a level of maturity and mass typically associated with billions of years of cosmic evolution. Furthermore, they’re surprisingly small in size, adding another layer of mystery to the equation.

Some theories like Zwicky's ''tired light'' theory, and Paul Dirac's ''coupling constants'' may be one of the possible explanations and putting the ''cosmological constant'' under possible revision.

source

[mostlysignssomeportents]

The reverse-centaur apocalypse is upon us

I'm coming to DEFCON! On Aug 9, I'm emceeing the EFF POKER TOURNAMENT (noon at the Horseshoe Poker Room), and appearing on the BRICKED AND ABANDONED panel (5PM, LVCC - L1 - HW1–11–01). On Aug 10, I'm giving a keynote called "DISENSHITTIFY OR DIE! How hackers can seize the means of computation and build a new, good internet that is hardened against our asshole bosses' insatiable horniness for enshittification" (noon, LVCC - L1 - HW1–11–01).

In thinking about the relationship between tech and labor, one of the most useful conceptual frameworks is "centaurs" vs "reverse-centaurs":

https://pluralistic.net/2022/04/17/revenge-of-the-chickenized-reverse-centaurs/

A centaur is someone whose work is supercharged by automation: you are a human head atop the tireless body of a machine that lets you get more done than you could ever do on your own.

A reverse-centaur is someone who is harnessed to the machine, reduced to a mere peripheral for a cruelly tireless robotic overlord that directs you to do the work that it can't, at a robotic pace, until your body and mind are smashed.

Bosses love being centaurs. While workplace monitoring is as old as Taylorism – the "scientific management" of the previous century that saw labcoated frauds dictating the fine movements of working people in a kabuki of "efficiency" – the lockdowns saw an explosion of bossware, the digital tools that let bosses monitor employees to a degree and at a scale that far outstrips the capacity of any unassisted human being.

Armed with bossware, your boss becomes a centaur, able to monitor you down to your keystrokes, the movements of your eyes, even the ambient sound around you. It was this technology that transformed "work from home" into "live at work." But bossware doesn't just let your boss spy on you – it lets your boss control you. \

It turns you into a reverse-centaur.

"Data At Work" is a research project from Cracked Labs that dives deep into the use of surveillance and control technology in a variety of workplaces – including workers' own cars and homes:

https://crackedlabs.org/en/data-work

It consists of a series of papers that take deep dives into different vendors' bossware products, exploring how they are advertised, how they are used, and (crucially) how they make workers feel. There are also sections on how these interact with EU labor laws (the project is underwritten by the Austrian Arbeiterkammer), with the occasional aside about how weak US labor laws are.

The latest report in the series comes from Wolfie Christl, digging into Microsoft's "Dynamics 365," a suite of mobile apps designed to exert control over "field workers" – repair technicians, security guards, cleaners, and home help for ill, elderly and disabled people:

https://crackedlabs.org/dl/CrackedLabs_Christl_MobileWork.pdf

It's…not good. Microsoft advises its customers to use its products to track workers' location every "60 to 300 seconds." Workers are given tasks broken down into subtasks, each with its own expected time to completion. Workers are expected to use the app every time they arrive at a site, begin or complete a task or subtask, or start or end a break.

For bosses, all of this turns into a dashboard that shows how each worker is performing from instant to instant, whether they are meeting time targets, and whether they are spending more time on a task than the client's billing rate will pay for. Each work order has a clock showing elapsed seconds since it was issued.

For workers, the system generates new schedules with new work orders all day long, refreshing your work schedule as frequently as twice per hour. Bosses can flag workers as available for jobs that fall outside their territories and/or working hours, and the system will assign workers to jobs that require them to work in their off hours and travel long distances to do so.

Each task and subtask has a target time based on "AI" predictions. These are classic examples of Goodhart's Law: "any metric eventually becomes a target." The average time that workers take becomes the maximum time that a worker is allowed to take. Some jobs are easy, and can be completed in less time than assigned. When this happens, the average time to do a job shrinks, and the time allotted for normal (or difficult) jobs contracts.

Bosses get stack-ranks of workers showing which workers closed the most tickets, worked the fastest, spent the least time idle between jobs, and, of course, whether the client gave them five stars. Workers know it, creating an impossible bind: to do the job well, in a friendly fashion, the worker has to take time to talk with the client, understand their needs, and do the job. Anything less will generate unfavorable reports from clients. But doing this will blow through time quotas, which produces bad reports from the bossware. Heads you lose, tails the boss wins.

Predictably, Microsoft has shoveled "AI" into every corner of this product. Bosses don't just get charts showing them which workers are "underperforming" – they also get summaries of all the narrative aspects of the workers' reports (e.g. "My client was in severe pain so I took extra time to make her comfortable before leaving"), filled with the usual hallucinations and other botshit.

No boss could exert this kind of fine-grained, soul-destroying control over any workforce, much less a workforce that is out in the field all day, without Microsoft's automation tools. Armed with Dynamics 365, a boss becomes a true centaur, capable of superhuman feats of labor abuse.

And when workers are subjected to Dynamics 365, they become true reverse-centaurs, driven by "digital whips" to work at a pace that outstrips the long-term capacity of their minds and bodies to bear it. The enthnographic parts of the report veer between chilling and heartbreaking.

Microsoft strenuously objects to this characterization, insisting that their tool (which they advise bosses to use to check on workers' location every 60-300 seconds) is not a "surveillance" tool, it's a "coordination" tool. They say that all the AI in the tool is "Responsible AI," which is doubtless a great comfort to workers.

In Microsoft's (mild) defense, they are not unique. Other reports in the series show how retail workers and hotel housekeepers are subjected to "despot on demand" services provided by Oracle:

https://crackedlabs.org/en/data-work/publications/retail-hospitality

Call centers, are even worse. After all, most of this stuff started with call centers:

https://crackedlabs.org/en/data-work/publications/callcenter

I've written about Arise, a predatory "work from home" company that targets Black women to pay the company to work for it (they also have to pay if they quit!). Of course, they can be fired at will:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/07/29/impunity-corrodes/#arise-ye-prisoners

There's also a report about Celonis, a giant German company no one has ever heard of, which gathers a truly nightmarish quantity of information about white-collar workers' activities, subjecting them to AI phrenology to judge their "emotional quality" as well as other metrics:

https://crackedlabs.org/en/data-work/publications/processmining-algomanage

As Celonis shows, this stuff is coming for all of us. I've dubbed this process "the shitty technology adoption curve": the terrible things we do to prisoners, asylum seekers and people in mental institutions today gets repackaged tomorrow for students, parolees, Uber drivers and blue-collar workers. Then it works its way up the privilege gradient, until we're all being turned into reverse-centaurs under the "digital whip" of a centaur boss:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/11/25/the-peoples-amazon/#clippys-revenge

In mediating between asshole bosses and the workers they destroy, these bossware technologies do more than automate: they also insulate. Thanks to bossware, your boss doesn't have to look you in the eye (or come within range of your fists) to check in on you every 60 seconds and tell you that you've taken 11 seconds too long on a task. I recently learned a useful term for this: an "accountability sink," as described by Dan Davies in his new book, The Unaccountability Machine, which is high on my (very long) list of books to read:

https://profilebooks.com/work/the-unaccountability-machine/

Support me this summer on the Clarion Write-A-Thon and help raise money for the Clarion Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers' Workshop!

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/08/02/despotism-on-demand/#virtual-whips

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

[marta-bee]

In honor of a certain two hobbits' birthday

I thought I'd share Tolkien's letter #214 in its entirety. It's long for a Tumblr post, but fascinating. Hobbit inheritance laws, several interesting women-hobbits, whole paragraphs on hobbit gift-giving traditions and why Gollum (of hobbit-kind) expected to be given a gift on his birthday instead of giving them to others. And that's without getting into the Agatha Christie-worthy story that is Lalia the Great (or Fat).

If you like this stuff but haven't dug into this particular corner of the lore, I hope you enjoy.

214 To A. C. Nunn (draft)

[A reply to a reader who pointed out an apparent contradiction in The Lord of the Rings: that in the chapter 'A Long-expected Party' it is stated that 'Hobbits give presents to other people on their own birthdays'; yet Gollum refers to the Ring as his 'birthday present', and the account of how he acquired it, in the chapter 'The Shadow of the Past', indicates that his people received presents on their birthdays. Mr Nunn's letter continued: 'Therefore, one of the following must be true: (1) Sméagol's people were not "of hobbit-kind" as suggested by Gandalf (I p. 62); (2) the Hobbit custom of giving presents was only a recent growth; (3) the customs of the Stoors [Sméagol-Gollum's people] differed from those of other Hobbits; or (5) [sic] there is an error in the text. I shall be most grateful if you can spare the time to undertake some research into this important matter.]

[Not dated; probably late 1958-early 1959.]

Dear Mr Nunn,

I am not a model of scholarship; but in the matter of the Third Age I regard myself as a 'recorder' only. The faults that may appear in my record are, I believe, in no case due to errors, that is statements of what is not true, but omissions, and incompleteness of information, mostly due to the necessity of compression, and to the attempt to introduce information en passant in the course of narrative which naturally tended to cut out many things not immediately bearing on the tale.

In the matter of birthday-customs and the apparent discrepancies that you note, we can therefore, I think, dismiss your alternatives (1) and (5). You omit (4).

With regard to (1) Gandalf certainly says at first 'I guess' p. 62; but that is in accordance with his character and wisdom. In more modern language he would have said 'I deduce', referring to matters that had not come under his direct observation, but on which he had formed a conclusion based on study. (You will observe in the Appendix B that the Wizards did not come until shortly before the first appearance of Hobbits in any records, at which time they were already divided into three marked branches.) But he did not in fact doubt his conclusion 'It is true all the same, etc.' p. 63.

Your alternative (2) would be possible; but since the recorder says on p. 35 Hobbits (which he uses whatever its origin, as the name for the whole race), and not the Hobbits of the Shire, or Shire-folk, it must be supposed that he means that the custom of giving presents was in some form common to all varieties, including Stoors. But since your (3) is naturally true, we might expect even so deep-rooted a custom to be exhibited in rather different ways in different branches. With the remigration of the Stoors back to Wilderland in TA 1356, all contact between this retrograde group and the ancestors of the Shirefolk was broken. More than 1100 years elapsed before the Déagol-Sméagol incident (c. 2463). At the time of the Party in TA 3001, when the customs of the Shire-folk are cursorily alluded to insofar as they affect the story, the gap of time was nearly 1650 years.

All Hobbits were slow to change, but the remigrant Stoors were going back to a wilder and more primitive life of small and dwindling[1] communities; while the Shire-folk in the 1400 years of their occupation had developed a more settled and elaborate social life, in which the importance of kinship to their sentiment and customs was assisted by detailed traditions, written and oral.

Though I omitted any discourse on this curious but characteristic fact of their behaviour, the facts concerning the Shire could be set out in some detail. The riverside Stoors must, naturally, remain more conjectural.

'Birthdays' had a considerable social importance. A person celebrating his/her birthday was called a ribadyan (which may be rendered according to the system described and adopted a byrding). The customs connected with birthdays had, though deeply rooted, become regulated by fairly strict etiquette; and so in consequence were in many cases reduced to formalities: as indeed suggested by 'not very expensive ones as a rule' p. 35; and especially by p. 46 11. 20-26. With regard to presents: on his birthday the 'byrding' both gave and received presents; but the processes were different in origin, function, and etiquette. The reception was omitted by the narrator (since it does not concern the Party) but it was in fact the older custom, and therefore the one most formalized. (It does concern the Sméagol-Déagol incident, but the narrator, being obliged to reduce this to its most significant elements, and to put it into the mouth of Gandalf talking to a hobbit, naturally made no comment on a custom which the hobbit (and we) should regard as natural in connexion with birthdays.)

Receiving of gifts: this was an ancient ritual connected with kinship. It was in origin a recognition of the byrding's membership of a family or clan, and a commemoration of his formal 'incorporation'.[2] No present was given by father or mother to their children on their (the children's) birthdays (except in the rare cases of adoption); but the reputed head of the family was supposed to give something, if only in 'token'.

Giving gifts: was a personal matter, not limited to kinship. It was a form of 'thanksgiving', and taken as a recognition of services, benefits, and friendship shown, especially in the past year.

It may be noted that Hobbits, as soon as they became 'faunts' (that is talkers and walkers: formally taken to be on their third birthday-anniversary) gave presents to their parents. These were supposed to be things 'produced' by the giver (that is found, grown, or made by the 'byrding'), beginning in small children with bunches of wild flowers. This may have been the origin of the 'thanksgiving' presents of wider distribution, and the reason why it remained 'correct' even in the Shire for such presents to be things belonging to or produced by the giver. Samples of the produce of their gardens fields or workshops remained the usual 'gifts given', especially among the poorer Hobbits.

In the Shire etiquette, at the date of the Party, 'expectation of receiving' was limited to second cousins or nearer kin, and to residence within 12 miles.[3] Even close friends (if unrelated) were not 'expected' to give, though they might. The Shire residence-limit was obviously a fairly recent result of the gradual break-up of kinship communities and families and dispersal of relatives, under long-settled conditions. For the received birthday presents (no doubt as a relic of the customs of small ancient families) must be delivered in person, properly on the eve of the Day, and at latest before nuncheon on the Day. They were received privately by the 'byrding'; and it was very improper to exhibit them separately or as a collection – precisely to avoid such embarrassments as may occur in our wedding-exhibitions (which would have horrified the Shirefolk).[4] The giver could thus accommodate his gift to his purse and his affections without incurring public comment or offending (if anyone) any other than the recipient. But custom did not demand costly presents, and a Hobbit was more readily flattered and delighted by an unexpectedly 'good' or desirable present than offended by a customary token of family good-will.

A trace of this can be seen in the account of Sméagol and Déagol – modified by the individual characters of these rather miserable specimens. Déagol, evidently a relative (as no doubt all the members of the small community were), had already given his customary present to Sméagol, although they probably set out on their expedition v. early in the morning. Being a mean little soul he grudged it. Sméagol, being meaner and greedier, tried to use the 'birthday' as an excuse for an act of tyranny. 'Because I wants it' was his frank statement of his chief claim. But he also implied that D's gift was a poor and insufficient token: hence D's retort that on the contrary it was more than he could afford.

The giving of presents by the 'byrding' – leaving out of account the gifts to parents,[5] mentioned above — being personal and a form of thanks, varied much more in form in different times and places, and according to the age and status of the 'byrding'. The master and mistress of a house or hole, in the Shire, would give gifts to all under their roof, or in their service, and usually also to near neighbours. And they might extend the list as they pleased, remembering any special favours in the past year. It was understood that the giving of presents was not fixed by rule ; though the withholding of a usual gift (as e.g. to a child, a servant, or a next door neighbour) was taken as a rebuke and mark of severe displeasure. Juniors & Inmates (those having no house of their own) were under no such obligations as rested on householders; but they usually gave presents according to their means or affections. 'Not very expensive as a rule' – applied to all the gifts. Bilbo was in this as in other ways an exceptional person, and his Party was a riot of generosity even for a wealthy Hobbit. But one of the commonest birthday ceremonies was the giving of a 'party' – in the evening of the Day. All those invited were given presents by the host, and expected them, as part of the entertainment (if secondary to the fare provided). But they did not bring presents with them. Shire-folk would have thought that very improper. If the guests had not already given a gift (being one of those required to do so by kinship), it was too late. For other guests it was a thing 'not done' – it looked like paying for the party or matching the party-gift, and was most embarrassing. Sometimes, in the case of a very dear friend unable to come to a party (because of distance or other causes) a token invitation would be sent, with a present. In that case the present was always something to eat or drink, purporting to be a sample of the party-fare.

I think it will be seen that all the details recorded as 'facts' do actually fit into a definite picture of sentiment and custom, though this picture is not sketched even in the incomplete fashion of this note. It could, of course, have appeared in the Prologue: e.g. in the middle of p. 12. But though I cut out a great deal, that Prologue is still too long and overloaded according even to those critics who allow that it has some use, and do not (as some) advise readers to forget it or skip it.

Incomplete as it is, this note may seem to you much too long; and though you asked for it, more than you asked for. But I do not see how I could have answered your queries more shortly in a way suitable to the compliment you pay me by taking an interest in Hobbits sufficient to mark the lacuna in the information provided.

However, the giving of information always opens still further vistas; and you will no doubt see that the brief account of 'presents' opens yet more anthropological matters implicit to such terms as kinship, family, clan, and so on. I venture to add a further note on this point, lest, in considering the text in the light of my reply, you should feel inclined to enquire further about Sméagol's 'grandmother', whom Gandalf represents as a ruler (of a family of high repute, large and wealthier than most, p. 62) and even calls a 'matriarch' (p. 66).

As far as I know Hobbits were universally monogamous (indeed they very seldom married a second time, even if wife or husband died very young); and I should say that their family arrangements were 'patrilinear' rather than patriarchal. That is, their family names descended in the male-line (and women were adopted into their husband's name); also the titular head of the family was usually the eldest male. In the case of large powerful families (such as the Tooks), still cohesive even when they had become very numerous, and more what we might call clans, the head was properly the eldest male of what was considered the most direct line of descent. But the government of a 'family', as of the real unit: the 'household', was not a monarchy (except by accident). It was a 'dyarchy', in which master and mistress had equal status, if different functions. Either was held to be the proper representative of the other in the case of absence (including death). There were no 'dowagers'. If the master died first, his place was taken by his wife, and this included (if he had held that position) the titular headship of a large family or clan. This title thus did not descend to the son, or other heir, while she lived, unless she voluntarily resigned.[6] It could, therefore, happen in various circumstances that a long-lived woman of forceful character remained 'head of the family', until she had full-grown grandchildren.

Laura Baggins (née Grubb) remained 'head' of the family of 'Baggins of Hobbiton', until she was 102. As she was 7 years younger than her husband (who died at the age of 93 in SY 1300), she held this position for 16 years, until SY 1316; and her son Bungo did not become 'head', until he was 70, ten years before he died at the early age of 80. Bilbo did not succeed, until the death of his Took mother. Belladonna, in 1334, when he was 44.

The Baggins headship then, owing to the strange events, fell into doubt. Otho Sackville-Baggins was heir to this title – quite apart from questions of property that would have arisen if his cousin Bilbo had died intestate; but after the legal fiasco of 1342 (when Bilbo returned alive after being 'presumed dead') no one dared to presume his death again. Otho died in 1412, his son Lotho was murdered in 1419, and his wife Lobelia died in 1420. When Master Samwise reported the 'departure over Sea' of Bilbo (and Frodo) in 1421, it was still held impossible to presume death; and when Master Samwise became Mayor in 1427, a rule was made that: 'if any inhabitant of the Shire shall pass over Sea in the presence of a reliable witness, with the expressed intention not to return, or in circumstances plainly implying such an intention, he or she shall be deemed to have relinquished all titles rights or properties previously held or occupied, and the heir or heirs thereof shall forthwith enter into possession of these titles, rights, or properties, as is directed by established custom, or by the will and disposition of the departed, as the case may require.' Presumably the title of 'head' then passed to the descendants of Ponto Baggins – probably Ponto (II).

A well-known case, also, was that of Lalia the Great (or less courteously the Fat). Fortinbras II, one time head of the Tooks and Thain, married Lalia of the Clayhangers in 1314, when he was 36 and she was 31. He died in 1380 at the age of 102, but she long outlived him, coming to an unfortunate end in 1402 at the age of 119. So she ruled the Tooks and the Great Smials for 22 years, a great and memorable, if not universally beloved, 'matriarch'. She was not at the famous Party (SY 1401), but was prevented from attending rather by her great size and immobility than by her age. Her son, Ferumbras, had no wife, being unable (it was alleged) to find anyone willing to occupy apartments in the Great Smials, under the rule of Lalia. Lalia, in her last and fattest years, had the custom of being wheeled to the Great Door, to take the air on a fine morning. In the spring of SY 1402 her clumsy attendant let the heavy chair run over the threshold and tipped Lalia down the flight of steps into the garden. So ended a reign and life that might well have rivalled that of the Great Took.

It was widely rumoured that the attendant was Pearl (Pippin's sister), though the Tooks tried to keep the matter within the family. At the celebration of Ferumbras' accession the displeasure and regret of the family was formally expressed by the exclusion of Pearl from the ceremony and feast; but it did not escape notice that later (after a decent interval) she appeared in a splendid necklace of her name-jewels that had long lain in the hoard of the Thains.

Customs differed in cases where the 'head' died leaving no son. In the Took-family, since the headship was also connected with the title and (originally military) office of Thain,[7] descent was strictly through the male line. In other great families the headship might pass through a daughter of the deceased to his eldest grandson (irrespective of the daughter's age). This latter custom was usual in families of more recent origin, without ancient records or ancestral mansions. In such cases the heir (if he accepted the courtesy title) took the name of his mother's family – though he often retained that of his father's family also (placed second). This was the case with Otho Sackville-Baggins. For the nominal headship of the Sackvilles had come to him through his mother Camellia. It was his rather absurd ambition to achieve the rare distinction of being 'head' of two families (he would probably then have called himself Baggins-Sackville-Baggins) : a situation which will explain his exasperation with the adventures and disappearances of Bilbo, quite apart from any loss of property involved in the adoption of Frodo.

I believe it was a moot-point in Hobbit lore (which the ruling of Mayor Samwise prevented from being argued in this particular case) whether 'adoption' by a childless 'head' could affect the descent of the headship. It was agreed that the adoption of a member of a different family could not affect the headship, that being a matter of blood and kinship; but there was an opinion that adoption of a close relative of the same name[8] before he was of age entitled him to all privileges of a son. This opinion (held by Bilbo) was naturally contested by Otho.

There is no reason to suppose that the Stoors of Wilderland had developed a strictly 'matriarchal' system, properly so called. No trace of any such thing was to be found among the Stoor-element in the Eastfarthing and Buckland, though they maintained various differences of custom and law. Gandalf's use (or rather his reporter and translator's use) of the word 'matriarch' was not 'anthropological', but meant simply a woman who in fact ruled the clan. No doubt because she had outlived her husband, and was a woman of dominant character.

It is likely enough that, in the recessive and decadent Stoor-country of Wilderland, the women-folk (as is often to be observed in such conditions) tended to preserve better the physical and mental character of the past, and so became of special importance. But it is not (I think) to be supposed that any fundamental change in their marriage-customs had taken place, or any sort of matriarchal or polyandrous society developed (even though this might explain the absence of any reference whatever to Sméagol-Gollum's father). 'Monogamy' was at this period in the West universally practised, and other systems were regarded with repugnance, as things only done 'under the Shadow'.

I actually started this letter nearly four months ago; but it never got finished. Shortly after I received your enquiries my wife, who had been ill most of 1958, celebrated the return of health by a fall in the garden, smashing up her left arm so badly that she is still crippled and in plaster. So 1958 was an almost completely frustrated year, and with other troubles, and the imminence of my retirement involving many rearrangements, I have had no time at all to deal with the Silmarillion. Much though I wish to do so (and, happily, Allen and Unwin also seem to wish me to do).

[1] Between 2463 and the beginning of Gandalf's special enquiries concerning the Ring (nearly 500 years later) they appear indeed to have died out altogether (except, of course, for Sméagol); or to have fled from the shadow of Dol Guldur.

[2] Anciently this apparently took place, shortly after birth, by the announcement of the name of the child to the family assembled, or in larger more elaborate communities to the titular 'head' of the clan or family. See note at end.

[3] Hence the Hobbit expression 'a twelve-mile cousin' for a person who stickled for the law, and recognized no obligations beyond its precise interpretation: one who would give you no present if the distance from his doorstep to yours was not under 12 miles (according to his own measurement).

[4] No presents were given at or during the celebration of Hobbit weddings, except flowers (weddings were mostly in Spring or early Summer). Assistance in furnishing a home (if the couple were to have a separate one, or private apartments in a Smial) was given long before by the parents on either side.

[5] In more primitive communities, as those still living in clan-smials, the byrding also made a gift to the 'head of the family'. There is no mention of Sméagol's presents. I imagine that he was an orphan; and do not suppose that he gave any present on his birthday, save (grudgingly) the tribute to his 'grandmother'. Fish probably. One of the reasons, maybe, for the expedition. It would have been just like Sméagol to give fish, actually caught by Déagol!

[6] We are here dealing only with titular 'headship' not with ownership of property, and its management. These were distinct matters; though in the case of the surviving 'great households', such as Great Smials or Brandy Hall, they might overlap. In other cases, headship, being a mere title, and a matter of courtesy, was naturally seldom relinquished by the living.

[7] This title and office descended immediately, and was not held by a widow. But Ferumbras, though he became Thain Ferumbras III in 1380, still occupied no more than a small bachelor-son's apartment in the Great Smials, until 1402.

[8] descendants of a common great-grandfather of the same name.

[problemnyatic]

Reminder that every callout against any trans person is nuclear bullshit and no matter how damning the evidence is, it is your moral, ethical, and political duty to ignore it and shut it down. this goes quintouple for every single year that has elapsed since the "evidence" and now.

Screenshots can be doctored, context can be manipulated, people can and very much do lie on the internet.

And if it absolutely, unshakably does seem plausible to you, however you wound up hearing it, you do your fucking research on where that story came from and who exactly is interested in documenting and spreading it before you so much as consider telling another soul. Plenty of groups exist that dedicate themselves to stalking vulnerable people so they can build a repository of "dirt" to sell you. They speak leftist and they know how to play your outrage and protective instincts like a fiddle. You are not immune to propaganda.

Protect every trans woman you meet. Even the worst of them.

[pragmaticide]

Wataten!: A Cupid Flew Down to Me???

Plot:

There has never been a niche for "love" for Charles, an abruptly-emerged chemical prodigy, a brilliant savant, and a wealthy young lad free from worries regarding sustenance and attire——all the exquisite words that can embody success can unearth a flawless fitting point on him. Well-acquainted that he possesses the wherewithal to be pretentious, he looks down upon the hoi polloi, firmly believing that only a few rational virtuosos can propel the world.

Until a bizarre man donning a pink attire, holding an exaggerated wand, and professing to be the "Cupid" barged into Charles' existence; with the plea rationale that "Charles can utilize himself to abet in the research experiment", hoping to linger by Charles' side...?

Whit did not come to discourse on love with Charles, nor did he desire him to espouse someone else, but with a singular mission - to instruct Charles on how to love the world and endow him with the ability to "love people".

In the game, players will tread in Charles' footsteps and collectively experience this transmutation of concepts. Charles was initially imbued with resistance towards Whit's tutelage, but as time elapsed, he began to reassess his own perspective *periodically*. He will progressively discern that love is not merely a romantic sentiment, but rather a power that can metamorphose the world.

在 Charles 的世界中，从未有过“爱”的一席之地。

他是横空出世的化学天才，是才华横溢的科学家，是衣食无忧的富家子弟…似乎所有能够代表成功的美妙词汇，都能在他的身上找到完美契合点。他深知自己有自命不凡的资本，也正因此看不起大多数人，坚信只有少数的理性的天才才能推动世界进步。

直到某个穿着粉色裙子，拿着夸张魔杖，自称“爱神”的男子闯入了 Charles 的生活；以“Charles可以利用自己来协助研究实验”为请求理由，希望能留在Charles身边…？

Whit 并非前来与 Charles 谈情说爱，也并非要让他与他人成婚，而是带着特殊的使命——教导 Charles 如何去爱这个世界，让他拥有“会爱人”的能力。

游戏中，玩家将跟随 Charles 的脚步，一同经历这场观念的碰撞与转变。Charles 起初对 Whit 的教导充满抵触，但随着时间的推移，他逐渐开始重新审视自己的观点。他将逐渐发现，爱并非仅仅是浪漫的情感，更是一种能够改变世界的力量。（缘神，启动！）

This game will be available on steam on 1919/8/10. Players can look forward to experiencing it and immerse themselves in its exciting world.

[niennawept]

Warning(s): None Rating: Gen Summary: The origins of moon dumplings, shared amongst all branches of elven kindred, are a source of frequent arguments, both culinary and scholarly.

An annotated copy of a recipe book from Nargothrond before its fall

To make moon dumplings:

A short time before moonrise, take a good amount of ground corn (as was the gift of the Valar for the Great Journey) and by gradations, add to it enough water to make a fine dough. Knead this with your hands until it is well combined. Allow the dough to rest under the light of Tilion’s full face for a time.[1] Knead the dough afterward until it is smooth. Allow this to rest again until the moon’s face is the breadth of one finger above the horizon and the dough feels as soft as a fawn’s ear. Divide the dough into four parts. Keeping one out, cover the others with a dark cloth so that they absorb no more light.

Pluck a piece of dough from the ball that is as wide as a thumb from tip to first joint. Flatten this to a disc and then, roll it flat with a pin using more ground corn to prevent the moon dough sticking. Place a good amount of filling[2] on top and carefully pleat the edges shut, using water if necessary to seal. The finished dumpling should be the shape of a crescent moon.

[1] The amount of time for the first resting of the dough is a matter of heated debate among the various branches of elvenkind. While the Exilic Noldor say that it can rest no longer than seven minutes, Vanyar sources claim that precisely fourteen minutes is optimal, in honor of the Valar themselves. The Teleri and Sindar agree that the dough can rest for up to ten minutes, but disagree on the manner by which the time to knead again is decided. The Teleri say that it should be done once the surface of the dough has a pearlescent sheen to it; the Sindar say it must be done when a cloud breaks the moon’s gaze or the full time has elapsed, whichever comes first. The Nandor are an outlier, who claim that dough for moon dumplings is only ready after twenty full minutes at rest. Notably, all of the other groups agree that this is too long of an exposure and produces a tough dough with an overwhelming flavor.

[2] The source declines to describe what manner of filling should be used, and consequently, the original filling is also a matter of intense research. During the early part of the Second Age, the scholar, Díril of Lindon, undertook a lengthy project, traveling across Middle-earth and even into the East to interview elves who could remember when moon dumplings first arose within their communities. This undertaking did not result in consensus.

For @silmarillionepistolary week

[beautiful-basque-country]

ON BASQUE AND ITS TIES WITH GEORGIAN, ARMENIAN, AND TAMAZIGHT.

American linguist Morris Swadesh (1909-1967) created a world map of current languages according to comparative linguistics, taking into account their common origin. The lexico-statistical or glottochronological Swadesh method is based on taking 215 words in two groups of 100; key words such as personal pronouns, low numerals, parts of the body, kinship names, some action verbs, some adverbs of time and place, objects of nature, very common actions, bodily actions and questions.

Swadesh claimed that in the basic vocabulary the rate of change is so regular in languages, that he had been able to create a system of measuring the elapsed time in which two languages were related in the past and that today are separated geographically.

According to Swadesh, that basic vocabulary of 100 or 215 words changes less than 20% per millennium in each language. These variations in vocabulary leave a common ground between two or more languages related to each other, which is measured chronologically, thus establishing the time distance between a language and its more modern relatives. If the number of words with the same root between two languages in these two groups of 100 is less than or equal to 5%, it is considered a similarity by chance (the figure does not respond to anything specific, the method has many random parts), and if it is greater it would be the result of some common past.

There is a formula to know the time elapsed between the period in which the contact occurred and the current moment, and the result with Basque was the following (with the rest of the languages with which Basque has been compared by this method the result is inferior and not significant):

list 215    list 100

Northwest Circassian Caucasian:

6.62% 7.52%

Northwest Avar Caucasian:

3.80%     5.37%

Georgian, South Caucasian:

4.73% 7.52%

Rift Tamazight (northern Morocco):  

6%         9.67%

Southern Tamazight (southern Morocco)    

7.38%       10.86%

Many of the similarities considered good are more than questionable, since the evolution of words and languages is not taken into account, some borrowings from other languages are considered good, etc.

Nor can we forget American linguist R.L. Trask, that compared Hungarian and Basque and found in 2 hours of searching 65 similar words that could only be the result of chance, but that lead to question many investigations: this exercise tested by other researchers with other unrelated languages has given the same surprising result. R.L. Trask said “I can't understand why some linguists get so excited when they find two dozen Basque words that look like two dozen other Berber or Sumerian words.”

Basque and the languages of the Caucasus

The Caucasus is located 4,000 kilometers from Garonne-Pyrénées-Ebro where the Basques live. In the Caucasus, about 50 different peoples coexist with almost 22 languages. The main difficulty in establishing the Basque-Caucasian relationship consists of this lack of unity.

Swadesh's lexico-statistical ratio of Circassian and Georgian to Basque is 7.52%, higher than any other language in the world. The supposed contact would have occurred in the Magdalenian, about 10,000 years ago. With the rest of the languages of the Caucasus, current Basque is similar in typology (verbs, the ergative, etc.) and in the etymology of some words, but its lexical-statistical relationship with all of them is less than 5%.

There are also parallels between Basque and Georgian in syntactic aspects, such as the use of the ergative (transitive-intransitive verbs, “Nor-Nork” forms) that do not occur in any other European language, the reflexive way of making sentences such as: “I have seen my head in the mirror” (nire burua ispiluan ikusi dut), and not: “I have seen myself in the mirror”, the use of base twenty to count, etc.

But many current or recent renowned linguists are skeptical about the relationship with the Caucasian languages. Basque linguist Koldo Mitxelena (1915-1987) said that: “In summary, there are some Basque-Caucasian lexical similarities that cannot be demonstrated to be possible, but on the other hand there are a large number whose extraordinary implausibility can be demonstrated (…). Even if Basque and the Caucasian languages go back to a common origin, the number of missing intermediate links must be so high that it is to be feared that, due to not knowing them, the ancient ties of kinship will not be established."

If there is a relationship, for both Koldo Mitxelena and Xabier Kintana, it has to go back to the fifth and sixth millennia or earlier.

Basque and Armenian

Armenian linguist and Basque philologist Vahan Sarkisian, creator of the Basque-Armenian Dictionary and a Grammar of the Basque Language in his language, is the main promoter of the "Basque-Armenian theory" and the one who has done the most work in recent years on ethnolinguistic kinship between both peoples.

This prestigious Armenian linguist affirms that "the best promoters of this theory were neither Basques nor Armenians and, therefore, they had no direct interests in the issue. I am referring to the Englishman Edward Spencer Dodgson and the German Joseph Karst. The former knew well Basque. In Paris he began to study Armenian and quickly detected the similarities, which he initially summarized in a list of 50 words. Karst was an Armenianologist and, when he came into contact with Basque, he compared issues related to anthropology, the phonetic system, the grammar and the lexicon and extracted more than 400 similarities. (...) We understand without problems, for example, what Zabaltegi, or Ormazabal means, because it means exactly the same in Armenian. We feel at home, and that already means something. Armenian is considered an Indo-European language (Basque is the only pre-Indo-European language in all of Europe, prior to the invasions of these peoples), but if we bring to light the twenty most important regularities of the language we will see that they coincide more with Basque than with any other neighboring languages such as Georgian or Persian. And not only referring to the lexicon. In Armenian, for example, words are not formed with an initial -r, our throat has a hard time pronouncing it. The same thing happens to the Basque language, to the Basque throat.

Neither Armenian nor Basque recognize the accumulation of consonants, they are unpronounceable to us, while in other languages neighboring ours, such as Georgian, groups of up to five or six consonants are common. We could mention many other characteristics that separate us from our neighbors and bring us closer to Basque, such as the postponed article, the way of forming the plural, not to mention toponymy, which provides an enormous amount of similarities. (…) I believe that this type of coincidences - which even affect the articulation apparatus, which has a physiological nature - cannot arise from mere contact, they cannot be imported or exported. Karst said that Armenian and Basque are two varieties of the same linguistic stem (…) The only thing I would dare to say with any certainty is that perhaps in ancient times the entire area was occupied by the same ethnic-cultural element, which gave way terrain to other elements, leaving vestiges in Euskadi and Armenia, as survivors of a great and ancient civilization.”

It is curious that Armenian – which does not give any relationship with Basque through the Swadesh method – and Georgian are, apparently, more similar to Basque than to each other when they are neighboring peoples. To conclude this short summary, let's share a toponymic curiosity: in Georgia there is Mount Gorbeya (like the highest mountain in Bizkaia and Alaba), in Armenia is the sacred Mount Ararat (like the Aralar mountain range between Alaba, Gipuzkoa and Alta Navarra), and also a mountain named Gora (mountain in the language of the area and "up" in Basque). The curiosity is even greater because the Araxes River bathes Mount Aralar, and in the Armenian Mount Ararat there is a river called... Araxes.

Basque and Tamazight

Tamazight, by the Swadesh method, is not related to Arabic or Egyptian; nor with Georgian, but with Basque, as well as the Cadmitosemitic languages from which it comes. Therefore, Basque is a language that may have common elements with Georgian and Berber, but they do not have any with each other.

The percentage of lexical-statistical relationship of Swadesh of Basque with Southern Tamazight is 7.38% and with Rift Tamazight is 6% (taking the 215 words because with 100 the percentage increases). Therefore, by this method there would be a relationship or common substrate between both languages. Based on the percentage relationship, contact would have taken place about 8,000-9,000 years ago.

In Berber the names given to animals are very similar to those given in Basque. «Aker» & «iker» (billygoat), «asto» & «ezet» (donkey); They also coincide in the way of saying horse, crow, river, brother, lie, name ("Izen" and "isem"), "I" and others.

Within this analysis we must mention the Guanches, native inhabitants of the Canary Islands before the arrival of the Spaniards. From the writings found (archaeology confirms this) it is believed that the Guanches would speak a Tamazight language that, due to the isolation of the islands, would maintain a greater degree of relationship with Basque. There are those who even see Basque place names in the Canary Islands such as: Los Llanos de Aridane (Harrigane: stone peak), Argindei, Tinizara (Tinitzaha), Tajuia, Tenegia, Jedei (Iedegi) in La Palma and in Lanzarote: Masdeche (Mahats- etxe: grape-house), Haria, Orzola, Guinate (Gainate: high step), Yaiza (haitza: rock), Ajache, Tesegite, Mozaza etc.

An anecdote that is often told is that the first conquerors of the Canary Islands believed that the natives spoke Basque.

Between Basque and Tamazight the similarities are reduced to the lexical or lexicographic level, since syntactically and grammatically there does not seem to be any relationship, both in current speech and in the past; there are just similarities in verbal articulation or in the use of some particles.

Julio Caro Baroja said in this regard: “I must warn in any case that the relationship between Basque and the African languages called Hamitic is not as founded as claimed. On the contrary, the hypothesis of a relationship between Basque and the Caucasian languages, which is perhaps the one that has produced the least interest in the Peninsula, seems to be the most prudent, because it is based on linguistic, morphological and strict observations.

Koldo Mitxelena had the same opinion, and believed it was necessary to study more the relationship between Basque and the Caucasian languages which, unlike the supposed kinship with Tamazight, did cause serious doubts.

[x]

@knario47

[haganezukawaifu]

𝓡𝓸𝓼𝓪 𝓓𝓸𝓵𝓬𝓮 𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 7

~𝓟𝓻𝓮𝓿𝓲𝓸𝓾𝓼 ~ 𝓜.𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽~ 𝓝𝓮𝔁𝓽 ~

"It all started when I was 5."

I stood in front of Bella as she sat on the couch, listening." The first moment I had this dream, I appeared in this 15th-century palace. Standing in this hallway, looking at the same wall. The same picture. And I would always be in front of this door not knowing what lies beyond it but they would call for me. I never saw their faces, but their voices always spoke." I explained everything to Bella. To every dream and thought.

"Then at school, the day of the basketball incident, I was back there again but strange things happened when I opened that door. I found these words on the wall written in Latin that were difficult to translate. There were also three thrones-like chairs and a necklace. The moment I touched the necklace, I saw a flash of eyes. Three red eyes. Staring at me and a voice calling out for me. I first saw these eyes when I touched Dr. Cullen's hand, but now they are three. Every night, I dream of them, longing for them. Wondering if they long for me or know I exist. After doing some research, I found out that these figures were supposed to be my soulmates. But if that is the case, where are they?"

"Maybe that explains the drawn part," Bella said.

"There's more. At school. On the day of the car accident. When Edward saved you," I say.

Bella nodded her head. "When you asked people if they saw Edward by you, they said no, you assumed you were the only person. It wasn't just you who noticed him. I saw him there too. I didn't notice him standing beside you when we parted ways. He was four cars away but before the car hit you, he stopped it. The night before, I had a nightmare of a car crash and everything fit the description. You asked if I was okay and I lied about a project when it was a dream. I was so disturbed that I couldn't sleep. I couldn't figure out who it was but I didn't expect it to be you." Bella stared at me as I explained:

"I wasn't aware it could come true, it just happened. My first thought was that it was just a nightmare that couldn't be real. I didn't know...I'm sorry," I said as I sat beside her and looked down. A moment of silence elapsed between us. I felt guilty for lying to her but I didn't know what she'd expect. Maybe she'll think I'm crazy. Maybe she'll never talk to me again.

As my mind wandered, Bella replied, "It's not your fault." I turned my head and looked at her.

"So you're not upset?" Bella shook her head. "If anything, I was in the wrong spot at the wrong time," she said as she lightly bumped my shoulder to cheer me up.

"So you're not expecting to say 'Christine. She became mad and planned to kill me." Bella laughed as she shook her head. "No. Besides, you're my friend and who else will I hang with?" Bella replied.

I smiled softly. I was glad Bella was still my friend. "In this case, if your nightmare was true, could these figures be vampires? " Bella asked. I shrugged my shoulder. "They could be but whatever they are, they can't be humans." Silence filled the room until Bella giggled.

"What?" I questioned. "You know when I talked to him, I started to think he was a superhero or something," Bella said.

I chuckle at Bella's comment. "Superhero. What are we in? Metropolis. What's next? Bitten by a spider?" Bella chuckles softly beside me.

"Or more terrible. We could be in Gotham," Bella said. We laughed together until I heard the front door open and it was Chief Swan. He walked in and noticed Bella and I sitting on the couch.

"Oh, Christine. Didn't expect you to be here," Chief Swan said. I noticed he carried something in his cooler. He must have been fishing. "Actually Mr. Swan. Bella and I were working on an assignment. We're doing Shakespeare in class. Have to learn our lines and all. But I think it's wiser to practice later," I said as I looked at Bella.

Nodding his head, Chief Swan offered breakfast. I shook my head as I said "That would be nice but I need to get home. I'm sure Cordelia is waiting for me. She's probably back from her business trip to Seattle. I'll see you tomorrow Bella."

"Y-Yeah. I'll see you tomorrow at school," Bella replied. I nodded my head as I said "Yeah." Bye, Mr. Swan." He bid me farewell as I left the Swan residence.

During my drive home, I listened to my music. Thankful Bella doesn't live far from me which is a plus. Her home is 15 minutes away. As I returned home, I noticed Cordelia's car in the driveway. She came home early. Thankfully, Cordelia is back in town and I'm grateful for her return. She told me about the meeting in Seattle and the amazing restaurant she ate at. She said next time she would have to take me there to try it. She also mentioned that she had dinner with someone named Axel.

This person was whom she met during the meeting and I can't tell if Cordelia liked them or not. But if so, I'm happy for her. The next day arrived and Cullen wasn't at school. Bella has questions for Edward, while I have questions for Alice. The day after came and I wore my cream blouse, plaid vest, and brown pants but they did not show up at school again.

While leaning on the cafeteria table, I said, "I feel they won't arrive anytime soon."

"I'm sure they're still camping," Bella exclaimed.

"Must be a pleasant trip," I muttered.

At this point, I will never talk to Alice and question her.

"So I'm heading to Port Angeles today with Jessica and Angela," Bella said. My interest was piqued by Bella's response.

"Really? What's the reason?" I asked. "Just helping them find their dresses for the dance. Lauren will be there. I was thinking about inviting you but you're busy after school," Bella said.

I nodded my head. I have to work after school. If I didn't work today, I would help Bella avoid boredom though I would take away dress shopping. Soon the bell rang and we parted our separate ways. School continued and it was the end of the day and I drove straight to Aphrodite Garden.

After getting to work, I walked inside. Cordelia greeted me as soon as I walked in and I greeted her back. The moment I put on my lavender apron and put my curly long hair up, I got to work. As it turns out, we received a wedding request. The first thing I did is come up with the design in my sketchbook according to the customer's preferences. Roses and any flower to go with it. Sounds challenging. After I finished the design, I emailed the customer to see if they liked the bouquet design or not. They did, which I was glad to hear. So I worked immediately. I started arranging flowers into the bouquet, starting with red roses. It was coming together and looked so beautiful. As I was working on the bouquet, I heard my name and it was Cordelia who held the phone in her hand. 

"Christine. I have to take this phone call. Take care of the front for me," Cordelia said.

I nodded my head. I saw Cordelia walk back to her office and I returned to designing the bouquet. I added some lilies to the arrangement to enhance the overall design of the bouquet. Suddenly I heard the front door chime meaning a customer had walked in. "Hello. Welcome to Aphrodite." Before I finished my welcome speech, I stood there and froze as the person who came in wasn't who I expected. It was Alice.

"Hello Christine," she said with a bubbly smile.

I didn't know what to say. I haven't seen her since she asked about my dreams. "Umm... Welcome to Aphrodite Garden. How can I help you?" I questioned. "I'm looking to change up the flower arrangement in my home. But I'm looking for meaning in flowers. Would you guide me?" Alice asked with a smile.

I nodded my head in response.

"And I'm sure you have questions. Don't you?" she asked.

"I do."

Alice smiled as she walked toward the showroom. "Then let's talk," Alice said as she stood at the door waiting for me to follow her.

I took off my gardening gloves and set them on the counter.

"Yes. Let's."

[opencommunion]

"The time that elapsed between the challenge posed by the ‘new historians’ addressing 1948 and their disappearance from the scene was short – less than two decades. The reason for this brevity is doubtless to be found in the fact that the 1948 war is not only a story closely linked to current politics but also a foundational myth. According to Louis Althusser, foundational myths are those most easily absorbed by society and according to which the social order is structured and maintained. They provide the narrative that justifies the existence of the state, and as long as they remain relevant to the existing social order, they retain their force.

... Almost immediately after the outbreak of the Second Intifada a reinvigorated Zionist consensus, which had somewhat eroded at the height of the Oslo days, reasserted itself with force. Public discourse in Israel was reshaped along strictly consensual lines. Thus, just as the atmosphere and politics of the early 1990s had been conducive for local historians to open a window onto the Palestinian narrative and even to contemplate acceptance of some of its major claims, so the changed conditions after 2000 provided fertile soil for a new generation of historians to entrench and barricade the narrative behind a wall of negation and fortify the collective identity in the face of renewed struggle.

It is important to emphasise that while the new Zionist consensus was immediately restored and re-embraced, the new historiographical narrative, which had already begun to assert itself prior to 2000, did not exactly reproduce the classical Zionist narrative. It is not only history, but also historiography, that does not repeat itself. What emerged instead was a new/old narrative, updated to the shifting political realities on the one hand and to take into account and absorb the new information coming out of the Israeli archives on the other.

The new historiography was Zionist in its ideological orientation, its mode, and its colouration, but it avoided the omissions, distortions, and denials of fact that had characterised the classical Zionist version. The post-Zionists and ‘new historians’, whose work had been based on Israeli archival sources to the extent that these were accessible at the time, had brought to light new facts concerning expulsions, massacres, and other war crimes committed in 1948 that the neo-Zionist generation could not ignore. Most important for their emergence was the release in 1998 of major new documentation from the archives of the Israel Defense Forces (IDF) and the Hagana, enabling professional historians in Israel to see with their own eyes, in government documents, the magnitude of the 1948 ethnic cleansing. Even ‘nationalist’ and Orientalist historians, who had scorned Arab or Palestinian sources and relied exclusively on Israeli sources, could no longer deny the massive, intentional expulsions. Thus, from a purely factual standpoint, the neo-Zionist version of 1948 did not differ significantly from that of the post-Zionists or the new historians. The difference lay in the response or interpretation of the facts. What the new historians saw as human and civil rights abuses or even as atrocities and war crimes are treated in the new research as normal and sometimes even commendable actions by the Israeli military. What the post-Zionists interpreted as shameful chapters in Israeli history are, in the new research, justified. From the neo-Zionist perspective, acceptance of the factual claims of the new historians was accompanied by the categorical rejection (shared by the Israeli public at large) of the contemporary moral implications that these critical new historians drew from their findings concerning Israel’s crimes in 1948, first and foremost being the dispossession of the Palestinians. ... A few words should be said about [Benny] Morris, one of the most important of the new historians, who, following what he described as his ‘turning point’ in 2000, could be said to embody both of neo-Zionism’s hallmarks: its positivism and (in his political writings and interviews) its moral justification of the ethnic cleansing that took place during the 1948 war. Morris did not shy away from providing evidence damning to the Zionist narrative. His book The Birth of the Palestinian Refugee Problem, 1947–1949, provided the first systematic evidence, based on IDF sources, of major expulsions during the 1948 war. When the documents were first released in 1998, showing the expulsions to be far more premeditated, systematic, and extensive than had been shown in the more limited documentation available a decade earlier, Morris, ever the positivist, undertook what he referred to as the correction of a mistake, and so he revised and expanded his book to reflect the new evidence. By the time the new edition was published in 2004, however, the Second Intifada was well underway, and the revelation of what would earlier have been seen as damning new information about 1948 now fused conveniently with the closing of the public mind with regard to the Palestinians in the wake of the uprising. In this new atmosphere, not only were Israel’s brutal military operations against the Palestinians during the new intifada seen as justified, but so was their systematic expulsion in 1948. Morris, who had earlier been wrongly accused of being an ‘Israel hater’ and a post-Zionist, now set an example for the neo-Zionists, inasmuch as he was ideally situated to provide hindsight justication for the 1948–49 expulsions. In an interview with Ari Shavit published in Haaretz on 9 January 2004, he provided the ultimate justication for the ethnic cleansing in 1948: ‘Without the uprooting of the Palestinians, a Jewish state would not have arisen here.’ Furthermore, he faulted Ben-Gurion for failing to ‘cleanse’ the ‘whole Land of Israel, as far as the Jordan River’, which ‘would have stabilised the State of Israel for generations.’"

Ilan Pappé, The Idea of Israel: A History of Power and Knowledge (2014)

[elizabethrobertajones]

"I'm so relieved to have you at my side, my loves," G'raha declared. "The fate of the star was not just in my hands, but yours too, and I cannot say how proud I am of us."

"Even me?" asked Frog, as Erenville rolled his eyes and tried not to look affected by the praise, despite the please twitch of his ears.

"Even you and the Gleaners did your part, Bounding Frog."

Day 5: Alternate Universe | In Another Life

"Oh, I don't think much about alternate universes except joke ones where Frog runs off with the Fuath but there's not like any lore or anything - Oh my god that one time Frog trolled Erenville by pretending to be a new Gleaner." *immediately comes up with 3 pages of backstory*

Anyway meet fucked up Allagan bloodline Erenville, Gleaner Frog and Warrior of Light G'raha :D (I really ought to have made Frog's colour scheme without the pink but it's so much a part of her I forgot it's from her Azem legacy until long after I posed and took the picture :P Really, G'raha should have pink highlights and a pink eye since I only have 1 canon Azem who is the forebear of any WoL in any AU I have and they have the Blessing of Pastel Pink Aesthetics they pass on)

Not a canon relationship as of the current waning days of Endwalker we're in and I can feel Frog trying to kill me with her mind for putting her this close to Erenville because this is currently her Nemesis and I am being a very bad blorbo caretaker by shipping them before plot has elapsed... But Erenville doesn't scare me as much as Y'shtola does so I can get away with it as long as Frog can't become so OP she can reach out of the fourth wall and murder me :P May be a level 100 ability but I hope the narrative gives me an opportunity to set her up with Erenville before then. And of course I ship G'rerenville 5eva.

WoL!G'raha's special interest wouldn't just be Allagan horrors but ALL the horrors and he'd know the most about manipulating aether for combat against primals and how to kill them all. It's joked that Hydaelyn blessed him with the Echo because she wanted to spare him bothering Krile with any more questions and tests and puzzles, and gave him the Blessing of Light so he could go off and do his own research. He made a beeline for the Scions of the Seventh Dawn and became their champion with a try hard attitude and known for his enthusiastic thumbs up whenever tasked with the hardest task.

Erenville diligently and quietly studied all he could on Allagan Horrors to learn what his family's dark secret was, but never made it too well known why he was studying it, or that his one gold one red eyes were anything strange. However, his quiet competence got him sent to Erozea to help Rammbroes, and despite all his attempts to lay low, he found himself there at the unlocking of the Crystal Tower, learning way too much about himself in front of people who couldn't unhear it, and pushed along by an over-enthusiastic Warrior of Light who could not shut up about how great an advantage such a magical connection could be. Still, Erenville is calm and professional and when the time came and he knew there was no other way, he shooed the Sons of St Coinach out of the Tower and looked almost dispassionately over his shoulder to G'raha and bid him farewell.

The Exarch was, of course, 1000x more impenetrably vague and annoying but - and this was rather difficult for the Exarch to handle - the huge dark ears sticking out of his hood did give G'raha a hint about who he may be dealing with, though he suspected all sorts of terrible things like Allagan clone or robot and so on before daring to hope it was truly Erenville - when he realised the plan was to tidily pack himself and the Light away with a minimum of melodrama and fuss. This was mostly because of the extremely intricate plans for running the Crystarium in his absence that Erenville had bequeathed before they left for Mt Gulg. It was all just too like him.

G'raha made a ten times more melodramatic intervention while actively coughing up Light everywhere, but Emet-Selch is going to Emet-Selch and can't stand the Warrior of Light being as big a drama queen as he is so he just shoots Erenville and kidnaps him to the Tempest because he's fed up of G'raha talking and posing. A rescue was mounted, love confessed, everyone forgave everyone and cried a lot etc etc.

Erenville joined the Scions after that and provided a sensible counterpoint, inexplicably becoming close to Alisaie (she reminds him of Wuk Lamat but he still hasn't disclosed an onze of backstory).

When they come to Sharlayan for help to stop the final days, they meet an over-worked but still cheerful Gleaner who can lift a whole Troll over her shoulder, and is very helpful and friendly winking and showing them the secret paths. Of course, Bounding Frog is a born Gleaner - she's loved animals forever and had mapped the whole mountain ecosystem around her home village. Sent to Sharlayan by her parents to study the things she loves, she'd quickly risen through the ranks of the Gleaners to become one of their trustiest hands.

She did see through G'raha hopping around as a frog instantly, and on hearing of the incident Erenville only wryly said "I'm sure I could have played a better toad." This could not be disputed, as Y'shtola refused to cast the spell frivolously to settle their debate.

Frog kept in contact and kept them updated on events in Sharlayan once they left to take the fight to the Telophoroi and kept them updated on the Blasphemies once the final days began; by the time G'raha returned from Elpis having learned of an Azem somehow even more annoying that the most annoying interpretation of Azem you've previously heard of, they had all become very fond of one another. By the time they set off for the stars, G'raha and Erenville had admitted to each other they both had a huge crush on the huge Gleaner, and she in turn was waiting for their return more anxious for them than the entire fate of the star.

And of course once they came back from Ultima Thule, Frog's only problem was working out which one of them to smooch first, before carrying G'raha off somewhere quiet to sit and hug and be extremely relieved and happy together :')

[transgenderer]

Kleine–Levin syndrome (KLS) is a rare neurological disorder characterized by persistent episodic hypersomnia accompanied by cognitive and behavioral changes. These changes may include disinhibition, sometimes manifested through hypersexuality, hyperphagia or emotional lability, and other symptoms, such as derealization. Patients generally experience recurrent episodes of the condition for more than a decade, which may return at a later age. Individual episodes generally last more than a week, sometimes lasting for months. Patients commonly have about 20 episodes over about a decade. Several months may elapse between episodes.

The onset of the condition usually follows a viral infection (72% of patients); several different viruses have been observed to trigger KLS.[2] It is generally only diagnosed after similar conditions have been excluded; MRI, CT scans, lumbar puncture, and toxicology tests are used to rule out other possibilities. The syndrome's mechanism is not known, but the thalamus is thought to possibly play a role. SPECT has shown thalamic hypoperfusion in patients during episodes.

KLS is very rare, occurring at a rate of 1 in 500,000, which limits research into genetic factors.[2] The condition primarily affects teenagers (81% of reported patients), with a bias towards males (68-72% of cases), though females can also be affected, and the age of onset varies.[2] There is no known cure, and there is little evidence supporting drug treatment. Lithium has been reported to have limited effects in case reports, decreasing the length of episodes and duration between them in some patients.[3] Stimulants have been shown to promote wakefulness during episodes, but they do not counteract cognitive symptoms or decrease the duration of episodes.

Patients with Kleine–Levin syndrome (KLS) experience recurring episodes of prolonged sleep (hypersomnia).[5] In most cases, patients sleep 15 to 21 hours a day during episodes.[6] Excessive appetite (hyperphagia) and unusual cravings are present in half to two thirds of cases.[6][7][8] About half of patients, mainly male patients, experience dramatically increased sexual urges (hypersexuality).[9][7] Several other symptoms usually accompany the syndrome, including marked changes in mood and cognitive ability.[5]Derealization and severe apathy are present in at least 80 percent of cases.[10] About one third of patients experience hallucinations or delusions.[7] Depression and anxiety occur less commonly; one study found them in about 25 percent of patients.[10] Individuals usually cannot remember what happened during episodes.[6] Repetitive behaviors and headaches are commonly reported.[7] Some patients act very childlike during episodes,[11] and communication skills and coordination sometimes worsen.[6]

The first time a patient experiences KLS, it usually occurs along with symptoms that are similar to those of the flu or encephalitis. In at least 75 percent of cases, symptoms occur after an airway infection or a fever. Viruses observed before the development of the condition include Epstein–Barr virus, varicella zoster virus, herpes zoster virus, influenza A virus subtypes, and adenovirus. Several days after symptoms first occur, patients become very tired.[9] In cases that occur after an infection, KLS usually starts within three to five days for teenagers and fewer for children.[16] In other cases, alcohol consumption, head injury, or international travel precede symptoms.[9][14] Lifestyle habits, such as stress, alcohol abuse and lack of sleep and stress, have also been proposed as possible triggers.[5] First episodes of KLS are preceded by a clear event in about 90 percent of cases.[8] Recurrences generally do not have clear triggers; only about 15 percent have a precipitating event.[17]

Population-based studies of KLS have not been performed. Its prevalence is about 1 to 2 cases per million people,[8] although recent studies conducted by a French research team point to a higher number of 3 per million people.[25] It occurs most frequently among Jews in the US and Israel. First-degree relatives of people who have the syndrome are much more likely than the general population to have it, although only in about one percent of cases do family members contract it. About 68 to 72 percents of patients are male. Patients with the syndrome are more likely than the general population to have genetic disorders, and about a third of people with the syndrome encountered some form of birth difficulty.[26] In a study of 186 older patients, about ten percent had preexisting psychiatric issues.[6] One study found that about ten percent of patients had a neurological condition before KLS developed.[8] The condition does not appear to occur most frequently in one season.[11]

??? extremely strange disorder.

[tossertozier]

ao3 literally didn’t let me put my thoughts into my end notes at the end of my new chapter of rewriting it. i’ve been CENSORED i’ve been SILENCED i will SHARE WHAT I HAVE TO SAY!!! (it was just too long.)

i hate the sequences that occur after the restaurant in the movie. i’m not even going to get into why it’s stupid. the introduction of the artefact thing is when i went from “this isn’t going to be a very faithful characterization adaptation of a character gold-mine book” to “this is going to be a bad movie.” what in the goosebumps was that. do we also need to find the map to treasure island. i don’t feel like explaining why i feel like if you get it you get it.

i am stoned as hell there is so much i wanted to tackle in this it is insane. how to hold a mirror to the first chapter, as the book does, without directly or senselessly repeating it. i find the sequel bizarre in its choices. i really do. why do we spend SO long retconning the clubhouse. what the fuck are we doing. why are we doing this. the kids are adorable, and i understand the desire to shove em back in there. but i genuinely think it lacks confidence in the adult cast. a film that doesn’t trust its ability to win the audience over with just the story they have to tell is a narrative that hasn’t been well thought through. because genuinely. the entire sequence added absolutely nothing of narrative value. also. it’s a retcon. just didn’t happen, and i guess they regretted it?

also i love my sweet little guy ben but how the FUCK did he build that.

he didn’t, he just didn’t. even “reinforcing the walls” those walls are at least 6 ft tall. there’s… there’s just no fucking way… by himself?? if we were gonna do this why not be like… plausible about it and be like “oh yeah this is what we did Together after the events for the sake of ~healing~ energy and we still had plenty of people in town that don’t like us” that would have been fine? i guess bc bill moves away at the end of the movie. maybe they did it in like the three days they had till bill moved? i don’t know. it was dumb. all around.

also.i feel characterizations are off in this entire sequence. stan and the kids with the bonnets felt like an unnecessary attempt at being wholesome. forced? maybe? i really want to stress i think the kids acting abilities shined with the material given.

the inclusion of eddie breaking the toy? weird. out of character. wonder why it was included. wonder if they were looking to recreate that improv magic that made that first movie so special.

i, obviously was absolutely taken with the storytelling of chapter 1, and i wanted to know everything. i did as much research back in the day as i could on the topic. i was fascinated by that these sent those kids to camp. i hadn’t heard of something similar in a project in a while, and i thought it was genius. (obvious nod to child actor ethics, hope they were being observed, etc etc etc) but i went to camp as a kid. camp is fucking magical for friendships. i’ve tried and failed many many times to write camp based fics because like the friendships and the feelings and experiences you have when suddenly untethered from your home base is crazyyyy. i had some of my deepest feelings of trust during my friendships at camp… like to this day. genuinely

the young cast chemistry in the first film is insane and it is what makes that movie and it is heartbreaking to accept that it was… literally never coming back. even if you mimiced the process however long later. a lot had to have happened to, around, between those kids in that time elapsed. that’s going to change whatever dynamic they had before. that’s perfectly fine, but when you literally coattailed that script on JDG and FW’s backs (i still laugh at “suck the wound!! get in there!!” in my head sometimes) and let dialogue come naturally as a result of the experience and the environment… you should accept you cannot script its continuation. love love love the kids. still think giving them the scene like that was a mistake. it was time that should have been utilized to fall in love with the adult losers before we start scaring the shit out of them.

gonna say it… not a huge fan of the scripting of richie. we’ll get into it later. the book makes it a point to say that richie as an adult is not a cruel man. the apology moment is IN the book over a joke that surprises him. being in derry brings him back to a part of himself he’s deeply uncomfortable with. having his dialogue have a bit of a mean streak with zero exploration of it bums me out.

now to the second part of this: shitting on the book, which of course i do reference several times in this now literal fucking essay as of course… ultimately it’s the holy book. it is canon, to me. IT is the book. these movies are adaptations. i’m going to be real here: i respect stephen king as an author. though my jokes may suggest otherwise. etc. it is his story and that has to be commended. these are his characters and plot and original ideas and that’s a fact.

the second act of the book is a mess. in order to kill an entity, you have to explain what it is. that’s… that’s just da rulez. you cannot end existence without at least ?? rationalizing it ?? i suppose ?? to your audience.

i think that’s why king won’t touch this book with a ten foot pole. i’ve seen him show a lot more interest in projects around some of his other books. his general regard seems to be like “go nuts don’t ask me to write a script” because he knows. i don’t want to bring drugs and shame into all of this but like let’s be real… the book doesn’t really make sense when it comes to what pennywise actually is, and it doesn’t even really seem like he tries that .. hard to make sense. yes yes shapeshifter… get it. but he also makes balloons and shit appear from thin air. fact of the matter is he bends not only his own form but the reality around it.

and yes : i get it. i understand that if you’re a fan of stephen king, and you understand his universe, it all becomes less convoluted. i genuinely understand that.

but the task at hand is to write a horror movie for mass-appeal. i’m gonna take a crack at explaining what it is, why it’s so fucking powerful, and how it can be killed.

(honestly the ending of the movie, i know i know we’ll get there, but i was literally holding a hand to my mouth trying not to laugh. remember kids, if you’re ever being bullied, get more people than your bully and bully them.) we also didn’t do any of the metaphysical stuff in the first movie… so… sending bev to the deadlights instead of bill was interesting… obviously i think the interpretation of what she saw was weak as hell idk just see where i’m going with this. i’m trying to do a lot all at one time for no reason!

but really king created a BEAR of a villain to try and make sensible in two hours. i’ m gonna try

[hybridmindthoughtsreloaded]

What you need to understand about the alt-media and mainstream media

Media outlets like Alex Jones, Natural News & RSB Prime their listening base just like MSN, CBS, & Fox News Prime theirs. They implant an idea inside your head to later be activated. The majority of information feed to you from them is false and has a lingering agenda. Their main purpose is to manipulate and control.

Priming

This is a concept derived from a network model of memory used in cognitive psychology. In this model, information is stored as nodes clustered with related nodes by associated pathways. If one node is activated, nearby nodes are also activated. This is known as spreading activation. Priming occurs when a node is activated, causing related nodes to stand by for possible activation. Both the intensity and amount of elapsed time from the moment of activation determine the strength and duration of the priming effect.

In media effects studies, priming is how exposure to media can alter an individual's attitudes, behaviors, or beliefs. Most media violence research, a popular area of discussion in media effects studies, theorizes that exposure to violent acts may prime an individual to behave more aggressively while the activation lingers.

[hyperesthesias]

Foresight & Respite

Notes: Boring. My inner Bronte came out again. Sorry. (I promise the next chapter [after Starlight Immemorial] is going to be really good. Viktor will have a spiritual sexual awakening.)

Context: Anya and Viktor are childhood friends from Zaun, who reconnected six months ago. Anya is a mage, theoretical physicist, and wealthy donor to the Academy. She is a different humanoid species, who lives for centuries. She has previously offered to become Viktor's patron, but he has worries about being unable to repay her. Anya is worried Viktor is being overworked, and offers her patronage again. They have their 'first fight'. Starlight Immemorial directly follows this chapter.

Tag List: @uniquedeerwitch @funcoolchickie (Please let me know if you would like to be tagged!)

AO3 link

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Days elapsed into weeks after the Symphony Ball, in which Viktor could not recall a time in his life spent without Anya. He was required to chaperone her to presentations and proposals given by department heads from the physics and astronomy college, where she listened with great attention and happiness to hear of the progress being made in the concept of light travel. After a myriad of lectures, she confided in Viktor that she had a contact at the energy research facility where she used to work, who had access to a hadron collider.

“Perhaps I can ask her for an appointment with the laboratory where it is located,” she suggested, excitedly. She walked with her companion among the halls of the Academy, from the physics college to the engineering department, where Viktor was set to lead the next lecture of Engineering 101. “That way, maybe you and your partner might be able to find some answers about the crystal, and what it can do.”

Viktor nodded and put the back of his hand, occupied with his daily notebook, to his mouth as he yawned.

“Certainly, I know the idea of visiting a hadron collider cannot be boring you,” she eyed him. “How much sleep did you get last night?” she asked and leaned to see his face. 

He tried to shy away from her prying judgment, but he conceded to her concern. “I got enough.”

“Your body disagrees.”

“My body disagrees with everything,” he miffed. They turned into the lecture hall, where he held the door open for her. The classroom was empty, and it allowed them to prepare for the first wave of students for the day. He settled himself at his desk, and set his notebook down, opening its pages to the lesson plan of the day.

Anya pulled down the chalkboards and erased the previous day’s scrawlings. “You do too much, Viktor. You cannot subsist on caffeine and curiosity alone.”

“It has worked so far,” he glanced at her.

She huffed and returned his look as she wandered to the edge of his desk, where a pile of papers sat, waiting to be distributed. “Have you thought about my offer?” She picked them up, and waited to see if he would reply. 

His sight broke from his notebook, but he did not look her in the eye; he did not have the wherewithal. Her offer had been exceedingly generous, and while its promise had crossed his mind repeatedly in the weeks they spent together, he gave it neither credence, nor consideration. Anya was the cause of so much gratitude in his life already, that should she be his benefactress, he would be indebted to her forever.

“My offer will always stand, Viktor. It will not expire,” she said, without a reply from him.

She passed out each paper to each desk within the lecture hall, and when she was finished, took her place at the side of his desk, waiting for the students to arrive. She found great joy in participating in the class as an aid – from distributing papers, to quietly answering students’ questions, and lulling a student’s infant, who lain restless in her mother’s arms during afternoon lectures. Being present there allowed her to mull over aspects of engineering she did not normally have the opportunity to think about. Though she, also, was adept in the mechanics of engineering, her work in the energy research lab had been primarily dedicated to the theoretical applications of light and radiation. She vigorously applied herself to the study of quantum energy, and how to pass an object of light from one point in time to another. Her desire was always to see the stars and mingle among them – one day, she promised herself, perhaps two hundred years thence, she would be able to see them for herself. But her calculations and her sciences had all been theoretical. Viktor was the machinist, even as a child – able to create a seemingly living thing from nothing at all: mechanized trinkets and autonomous beings that relieved his responsibilities of chores. Together, their knowledge was enviable and dynamic.

Two classes passed the day, and by the third, Viktor finished his second cup of coffee. He disliked its bitter taste, though Anya always had it sweetened perfectly to his liking. As the students filed in and began their quiz, he realized he did not know how Anya ordered his coffee, only that she knew to appeal it to his palate. The intimacy of his interests being perceived by another was foreign to him, though not unwelcome.

The class completed their quiz quietly and without incident, and Viktor leaned forward onto his desk to relieve pressure from his spine. He remained there for the entirety of the test, and by the time every student was finished, Viktor was still languid on his table. Anya peered over his shoulder, and saw his eyes closed, and his breath heavy and idle. He was asleep. She smiled to herself and ventured to wake him, but he did not rouse with her attempts.

Anya stood from grading papers, and gently took his notebook from under his elbow, where she read through the lesson plan he had written out: it was half in their native language, and half in the common tongue. The class was simple, and there were no topics of which she was unfamiliar, thus she proceeded to teach the final class of the day.

She enjoyed it thoroughly, and answered every question with grace and knowledge. She was a patient teacher, who expounded when necessary, and who had no qualms in walking among her students when they needed individual assistance. When her lecture was almost complete, the infant who was regularly toted to classes with her mother, began to fuss and whimper; Anya did not hesitate in continuing her offer to soothe the child – she had a pointer in one hand, and the infant in the other as she finished the lecture.

Viktor woke to the sound of students bustling and chairs scraping against the flooring. He was mildly disoriented, and could not perceive the time. When he opened his eyes, he saw his class filing to exit, and Anya at the head of the room smiling and playing with the child in her arms. Its mother was approaching her from the rear of the class, but Anya did not rush her or show her any impatience or malice. Instead, she took the child’s hands as they reached for the shimmering fabric of her veil, and kissed them. Viktor felt as if he was woken to another dream.

As the child was returned to its mother, Anya returned to Viktor’s side with a soft smile. She traced a finger along the edge of his face and placed her hand on his upper arm. “You cannot outrun your mortal needs forever,” she said.

He let a long sigh, and rolled his brow along his arm. “I can’t sleep.” He forced himself to sit upright and stand – he leaned heavily on his cane as he forced his exhausted legs to move against their will.

Anya began to pack their belongings and reset the classroom. “What troubles you?”

By the time she finished, he made it to the exit, where he held open the door for her. He leaned against its frame as he thought on how to answer her. “The night Jayce and I unlocked the crystal’s potential – the feeling of being weightless – it was…incredible.” He looked at her as she came to his side, still trying to find the words to describe it. “I felt…whole, again. A feeling I have not had since my earliest memories. Something I long to recreate.” They began to walk the halls of the Academy, towards his apartment near the laboratory. “My every waking moment is spent trying to decipher it, trying to apply it in a way where others can feel its benefit – where I can feel its benefit, again. But my energy is limited, and there are only so many hours in a day, until my body can no longer function.”

Anya remained quiet for a while, until they approached his apartment door, and she asked again: “Why will you not accept my offer of patronage?” Frustration laced her voice, that her friend would not accept a gift she readily gave: “Is it pride?”

He furrowed, offended, and unlocked his door. “No, it is not pride.”

“What is it, then?”

“It is unfair,” he insisted.

“If my offer is not enough, I can amend it –”

“It is unfair that I have nothing to give you in return,” he said.

“I do not want you to repay me. I want only your wellbeing.”

“No, Anya,” he contended. “You are stubborn.”

She drew back, insulted, but ventured to assume his ire was due to his lack of sleep. “I am not the only one who is obstinate.” Satisfied that her friend was safely returned to his home, she quitted him and the Academy.

Viktor sighed and leaned his head on the doorframe of his apartment. He had a preternatural fear of power imbalances and debts he could not repay. He saw them paid for in blood and slavery as a child in Zaun, and he vowed never to be placed in a position that could indenture him to the will of another.

As he settled himself into his apartment – removing his shoes and his tie as he reclined on the sofa, with a hand over his eyes – he felt foolish for projecting his fear onto Anya. She, of all others in his life, knew the primal fear of subjugation, and he felt ashamed that he would – even subconsciously – presume her of such a sin. The offer of her patronage was a reflection of herself: pure and kind-hearted, with little expectation of return; he called to mind the afternoons as children, where they would sit in silence, and she never attempted to pry from him a word or an answer. She was not stubborn for the sake of stubbornness itself, but she was eager in her generosity, a trait which was foreign to him. 

He reached for a drawer in the side table, and made from it a discreet pillbox; he took from it two pills and swallowed them dry. As his eyes drifted closed, he pondered the wording of the apology he owed her, which he would present to her the next day.

Viktor arrived at the lab in the late morning – he fell asleep on the couch, and remained there for the duration of the night; his back was sore, and his neck was stiff, it took him a half hour more than usual to ready himself for the day. When he arrived, he heard Jayce’s voice and laughter, and Viktor opened his notebook, searching for a scheduled meeting or a projected visitor; he found none in his calendar. 

Instead, as he entered the lab, he saw Anya standing over the workbench, she listened as Jayce described his vision for HexTech to her. She had her own notebook on the bench, with notations and suggestions written in their native language, which Jayce could not read.

“Viktor!” Jayce called to him. “Man of the hour. I was just telling our visitor about how you used mechanical resonance to stabilize the crystal.” While his words were true, he hoped their emphasis made a positive and lasting impression on Miss Anya.

Viktor eyed Anya and greeted her with a light bow of his head. She returned the gesture, but said nothing. “It was simple, really,” he cleared his throat, averting his gaze from her. “Crystals operate vibrationally – all it needed was some tuning.”

“And is it tuned now?” Anya raised a brow, referring to his attitude, rather than the crystal.

He nodded once, and pursed his lips, still shying himself from her regard. “Yes. It is…tuned.” Viktor gathered his decorum and straightened his back with a wince as he motioned from her to his partner. “Jayce, this is Miss Anya. She is a donor to the Academy; she graduated here from the Physics and Astronomy Department.”

“She’s more than that – she told me she’s the contact you’ve been sharing our notes with.” 

Viktor looked at her, pleased that she felt safe enough to divulge part of her involvement. “Yes, Miss Anya and I have worked together before.”

She took her notebook and began to approach Viktor. “We are friends.” 

Viktor knew she meant to educate Jayce on the nature of their relationship, but he also knew it was a reminder for him. He spent years friendless and alone, that he knew the reminder of its meaning was necessary. “Indeed.”

“May I speak with you, Viktor?” she asked. 

“Please,” he agreed and motioned for the hallway outside the lab. 

Jayce watched the pair exit the lab and disappear into the shadows; he could hear vague words in another tongue, hushed and reticent, and he wondered how they knew each other. Viktor never spoke of a romantic interest – he rarely divulged personal details about himself at all. But he recognized in Viktor a look of indelible love – great admiration and awe: he looked on her as if she were carved of marble, sacred and haunted, possessed with the spirit of some greater thing than he.

“I wanted to apologise for yesterday afternoon,” Anya said. 

Viktor shook his head, adamantly. “No – it is I who should apologise.” 

“I did not mean to pressure you, or make you feel uncomfortable,” she continued.

He sighed and put his head in his hand. “If I felt any discomfort, it was of my own making – not yours,” he paused and shook his head again. She looked on him with worried eyes, and saw what lay beneath him. It was futile to lie to her, or obscure any truth about himself. “I want to accept your offer. But nothing I do will ever be enough to repay you.”

“I know this worry weighs heavily on your heart,” she said and took his hands. “I have thought of a solution: I will be not only your patron, but your investor. That way, anything I have given to you, will be inherently paid off by the work you produce. You will never have to worry about a debt unfulfilled.”

His shoulders dropped as his breath fled from him, and a weight was relieved from his soul.

“Will you accept my offer, with these conditions?”

He nodded, still breathless, and his hands held onto hers with gratitude. “I do.”

“I hate to see you so tired…” she passed one hand along the darkness gathered beneath his eyes, “...my dear Viktor.”

“Forgive me for how I acted yesterday,” he said and kissed her hand. “My mind has been tired, and I have not felt myself.”

“Hopefully now you can rest – unworried about provision. Rest – though I know you despise it –, and dedicate yourself to the science you love. Leave the assistant work behind. You work for no one, but yourself."

"And Jayce."

Anya looked towards the lab, where the broad outline of his newfound friend could be seen in the distance. She hummed, unconvinced. “He is young. But he speaks with such conviction.”

“You doubt him?”

“I do not doubt his intentions for the good of all sentient beings, but he is sure of himself, and of his goals. Such conviction can make someone blind. It can cultivate hubris.” She looked at Viktor again, and pressed her fingers into his. “Follow your endeavours wherever they might take you – but do not forget yourself, my dear Viktor. Stay, always, my wonderful friend.”

He looked on her with curiosity, but heeded her nonetheless; his thumbs caressed the tops of her hands, and he nodded carefully in agreement. Her kind were blessed with the gifts of magic and foresight, and he wondered if there was some figment of the future to which she had been privy; but he hesitated to ask, and found himself afraid of her answer.